A Lady, The Scoundrel
by seghen
Summary: Elizabeth incognito, Will dead, Captain Jack a captain yet again, the seas manned by a forcibly domesticated Davy Jones. Is piracy dying, or is a rebirth in the works? JE spoilers for DMC
1. Chapter the First

**At first meant to be a one-shot, but i have decided against it.**

She was a lady. Elizabeth Swann was born and raised a governor's daughter, one meant to marry young and bear many little children for her wealthy and well-respected husband. Every since infant hood she realized what she was meant to be, what her father had hoped he could raise her to be, and she rebelled against it, at least mentally. With every prod for marriage with the newly instated Commodore Norrington, her thoughts slipped to the dashing Will Turner. Every moment her individuality was questioned, she did her best to reinforce it, even if she could no do so aloud.

And here she stood, at the burial of her dearly beloved, the man she was so close to marrying before circumstance cruelly ripped them apart. The same man who rescued her from the clutches of ruthless pirates, the man who she evaded capture from the East India Trading Company just to assist him. There was no doubt that she loved him, always had.

It was rather ironic, though. The sun was out, spreading its many rays onto the Caribbean island, the utter opposite of her raging emotions. On her wedding day it rained, no, _poured _down onto them, soaking through her dress and ruining the supposed best day of her life. Now Will was dead, in the ground, and everything was so damned cheerful, and she was long since cried out. She knew that she was risking exposure here, standing outside in the open, just asking the wretched Beckett to capture her and take her to the gallows.

His tombstone was makeshift, she had made it herself. No one would come to pay their dues to this great man on this little island, and the sea wouldn't swallow him, just as she knew he had wanted it to, but it was her own selfishness that did not allow it. She wanted a definite place to visit her love, somewhere warm and safe, despite the fact that now Beckett controlled the Caribbean, making nowhere entirely safe. Elizabeth carried a clump of weeds in her left hand, the prettiest she could find. The flowers were covered in swarms of bees, and she was well aware that her beloved would not be picky.

She did not look like a lady, her hair slicked back with sea water, coal smeared beneath her eyes, a pair of slacks and Will's torn jacket draped over her arms and chest. It still smelled like him, and she feared that she would wear it out, overpower the stench of salt and sea, one of the many reasons she had no intention of permanently dwelling on land. She would continue as though Will was next to her, fighting alongside her.

Her father would barely recognize her without the victorian dresses, hair dolled up to perfection. She looked the part of a ruffian, and now she smelled it. She considered a dwelling in Tortuga for a short while, perhaps becoming a ship hand and playing the part of a man. She had done it before, and without her corset her..._womanly _assets were hard to identify beneath the clothes that nearly swallowed her. Elizabeth doubted that Beckett would care to find her, now that he had what he Davy Jones' heart and thus controlled the seas. She was not his main concern, and word of Will's demise would eventually catch up to him. The thought of that odious man smugly smirking upon discovering this wrenched her gut, he did not deserve the self-satisfaction.

Elizabeth admired her handiwork cautiously, she could not give too much away. It simply read Will Turner, after a mental debate whether or no to allow his last name to be lost, and her own name was below it, though she tacked her love's surname onto her own. They didn't need sacraments, she had been 'married' to Will for a long while, though the physical aspect never caught up with either of them, and perhaps it was for the best.

Elizabeth Swann 'Turner' was now dead, along with William Turner. She wondered if anyone would read this, if anyone would care. Perhaps some sailor would and report, their names were on the tips of many-a-tongue in Port Royal. She wondered whether or not the grave would be excavated, and she somehow doubted it. James would find it fit to allow the two to rest in peace alongside one another, she knew that he would rather believe her dead than lost in piracy, but it was contagious.

The thought of Jack came to mind, his miraculous rescue, his betrayal and redemption and betrayal yet again continued to bob in the depths of her mind, lost in the grief of Will's untimely death. She wondered whether or not she would ever see him again, and if she did would she make herself known? The ambiguity of it all kept her captivated and curious. She could not help but wonder if he would look for her, or if she wanted him to. These thoughts were treacherous indeed, her beloved not yet cold in the ground.

Captain Jack would be too busy pillaging innocent boats to spare two moments of thought toward Elizabeth and her impressive double-cross. He had resurrected The Black Pearl and this was all that mattered, even though it was just a ship, or so he once painfully claimed.

"I'll see you soon, Will. I'll be back, I promise." The promise of a lady was something honorable, a word that you could count upon. But the promise of a pirate, a _female _pirate, this was not a plight one could be sure of. She placed Jack's hat, a keepsake, atop her greasy head and swaggered away, turning back three times before finally reaching the golden sandy beach.

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"Captain! Captain!" The voice and pitch made the speaker quite obvious, a young boy barely surviving seventeen summers that they had picked up at some port for scouting purposes. Jack Sparrow twirled around dizzily, a bottle clutched in his hand and his eyes wide and disinterested.

"Yes, yes, what is it...boy?" He questioned, a momentary lapse of memory and a permanent case of not caring causing him to forget the name of the gent. The boy looked eager, as though he had discovered something shiny, like tinfoil.

He seemed not to care that the captain had forgotten his name, his own pride lost in the heat of the moment. "There is something I believe you need to see, Cap'n." Ah, the boy had already caught the contagious case of incredible vagueness, Jack was mildly impressed.

"Ah, now see, m'dear lad, _need _is a relative term. If you seem to think that I need to see something, you could be sorely mistaken, thus resulting in some sort of devastating disappointment from me, and causing some bitterness betwixt the two of us. I _need _more rum, seeing as someone found it fit to load it into the cannons, savvy?" The boy seemed lost, but nodded nonetheless.

"I think that you would want to see this, then, sir, is that better?" The lack of his feature change seemed to signify that it was not, but he followed him nonetheless.

"Gibbs, if you may." Jack stated, over gesturing toward the rope that acted as a ladder. "I would like a second opinion on this allegedly incredibly important circumstance." He explained without much care, stumbling onto the damp sand carelessly. They had stopped briefly, attempting to evade arrest from that pansy Beckett, whom had found it fit to send good ol' Davy Jones after both he and his crew. It was growing tiresome.

The deck hand, Declan, he now recalled he had renamed him for association's sake, eagerly pranced across the sparkling beach, his boots thrice sinking into the muddy abyss beneath the surface while both Captain Jack and Gibbs retained their footing extraordinarily well. "It's over here!" He called out, leaping into the foliage and following his own footsteps toward this allegedly wonderful place, and Jack was annoyed when all they found was a flat stone, apparently from the nearby jetty.

"While this is _incredibly _interesting, lad, I don't seem to recall showing an interest in..." He stopped mid sentence as he came into close enough range to read what was carved onto the rock, and nearly dripped over his own boots. This was no regular stone, it was a _headstone, _one that read two names that he was not expecting.

"I heard some of the crew discussing the two of them, Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner, I didn't know that they had passed." Declan stated, not seeming to note the sudden change in atmosphere. Gibbs' gaze was fixed on Jack, while Jack seemed to have completely forgotten that the world was still turning. His bronze skin paled slightly, as he took note of the mangled weeds laying atop the grave.

It took a few moments for the Captain to regain his swagger, though he came back with a bit more enthusiasm than necessary. "Hmm, strange that the two found their deaths on this little hunk of land. I suppose it will be comfort to the gov'ner to know that they died together." It did not seem to be comfort to him.

Joshamee Gibbs did not appear to be quite so certain. "It's been less than a year since we've seen the pair, I'm finding an awful lot of trouble believing that they wrangled a crew they could trust in that short span of time." The captain was already walking away, his arm extended somewhat snootily.

He turned around at this, brow crinkled. "What exactly are you saying, Gibbs?" He questioned slowly, Declan appearing blissfully ignorant.

"I'm just saying that I don't believe that the two of them, on the lam, as they were, would indulge their full names to a crew who could quite easily turn them over to the East India Trading Company."

Jack was not quite grasping the concept. "You _are _saying something, this I am certain of, but what it is that you mean to convey to me through words seems to be lost." He informed him with his dizzying intellect, and Gibbs resigned to simpler means.

"Perhaps they are not dead, but hoping to dissuade any who would find this here stone and believe them to be so." This did not fit, and the captain found it his duty to inform him of this.

"As though a simple little rock in the middles of nowheres would call off the hunt, I don't find false hope to be much of a condolence at all." Gibbs was surprised by his reaction, there was nothing in his features that displayed grief, but his words seemed to suggest that he was _sorry _that they were dead.

"Not meaning to be on the contrary, sir, but then perhaps only _one _of them has found their death by unholy means. I don't see Ms. Swann and Turner finding it in their interest to state their names, as I have said before." This seemed to hit Jack suddenly, as though Gibbs' previous attempts were completely lost.

"Ah, so what you are saying is that perhaps this is only _half _a red herring, and perhaps only fifty percent of the pair is maggot meal, while the other percent is off frolicking and drinking rum...or, if the case allows it, burning it." He said, relaying exactly what his first mate had stated, expect with much less logic and quite a bit more confusion.

Gibbs frowned, relaying the whole of the conversation for a moment before sighing. "Aye."

Captain Jack Sparrow smiled somewhat falsely, before turning away from the scene. "Alright, I'm glad we understand each other, mate." He said, completely unaware that nothing was understood.

**tell me what you think, please.**


	2. Chapter the Second

**going to a family reunion, and i would like to thank all of my reviewers, i accept all constructive criticism and please, tell me if you think that ANYONE is out of character, etc. and to the reviewer who asked whether or not i would have some sort of annoying Elizabeth's sister OC, dont worry, i definitely won't!**

Tortuga was a place of opportunity. Well, if you were a vile, repulsive, no-good scallywag who wanted nothing more than to rape and pillage other people's property, than it was quite the dog's chance for anyone who wished to have a brush in with the law. The women were more than willing to be with any man with enough coins jingling in their pockets, their faces caked in makeup and their dresses so low cut as to reveal their bosoms pressed nearly up to their necks.

Elizabeth Swann may have transformed from a debutante into a rogue, but she was still none to be prostituted out to any excited sailor whom had not seen a woman in months. Her small frame was easy enough to conceal beneath layers of clothing, her face smeared with sweat and dirt, enough of each to not make any government official even consider that this woman was, well, _a woman_.

"Yes, laddies, take your fill of rum and women, for this will be a day to remember!" She called over the swelling crowd, two pints in either hand, brandishing them as though they were weaponry. The scoundrels roared in approval, not a one of them finding her interesting enough to focus upon. She distributed the liquor with a sort of smirk, sweeping downward with a gentlemanly grin. The cloth pressing down on her skin to conceal her womanliness became increasingly irritating, and she quickly adjusted it before reclaiming her seat behind the bar.

"C'mon, pretty lass. I can make you feel even prettier." Growled a man with not-so-honorable intentions to a tawdry prostitute, who giggled as though he had said something incredibly witty and full of charm. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, glad that her back was to the couple. The thought of scabby Abigail with an equally unattractive man caused her stomach to clench in trepidation, it was times like these that she could not help to wonder what Will's reaction would have been. She predicted a sort of disgusted, ill-concealed grimace accompanied by a knitted eyebrow and a sound that was not quite a sigh and leaning more toward the sound of a scoff.

She smiled at the contemplation, confusing an incredibly hostile customer who wanted nothing more to get drunk and scowl simultaneously. It was good for a Tuesday night, only three fights and one mortally wounded sailor who looked as though he might not make it to Thursday. She was impressed by the way things were going, especially seeing as she had been employed at this rather popular pub for over seven months and she had yet to be sucked into a fight, though she was forced to play mediator for over a dozen of them. Perhaps they did not wish to offend the one who would be serving them their drink, in fear of poison.

By the time she turned back, the disgusting display that she had been blessed to only have to listen to was thankfully over, the two had disappeared into the crowd and were on their way to do god knows what. She winced slightly, the expression somewhat hidden from beneath the brim of Jack's hat as the mental picture came to mind, one which she prayed that she would never have to experience yet again in the entirety of her life.

"-brief visit, an interlude, actually. There's no chance..." Elizabeth's spine straightened suddenly as her eyes widened. The voice was similar, too similar to someone she had not seen or heard from in nearly two years.

"Jack, there are still some of the Trading Company's peons afoot, and with that warrant out for you and our whole ship..." Elizabeth ducked beneath the bar at the sound of Gibbs as well, and wished that she could be surprised by their blatant lack of secrecy.

"Mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, d'you really think that I don't have a thing or two up me sleeve, eh?" Unable to escape her post, she jumped up, pressing the brim of her hat down so that it hopefully shaded her face enough to avoid positive identification. She found Jack's eyes wandering on the many buxom lasses flouncing about without a care for propriety while Gibbs was resigned to be the sole voice of reason.

"What'll you have, mates?" She questioned in a voice a bit too deep to be accurate, though the two pirates seemed not to take note of this faux paus as they quickly demanded that they have rum and they have it now. The two masters of discretion sat nearby, idly chatting about life at sea and so forth, speaking a bit too loudly and a bit too brashly for one who wished to conceal the contents of their conversation.

Elizabeth pretended to busy herself behind the counter while keeping one eye on the two, who appeared to be bickering. Amidst the somewhat useless argument which seemed to ironically convey Gibbs' fear of exposure, Captain Jack Sparrow turned tiredly and glanced in her direction, his gaze suddenly fixed. Her blood ran cold and her mind went blank as his eyes seemed to stare right through her. Gibbs, as unobservant as ever, continued to prattle on while the man sitting adjacent from him seemed to have completely zoned out of the conversation.

Sick of being object of such scrutiny, Elizabeth turned and ducked, a measure that seemed to confirm his suspicions apart from dissuading him. "Excuse me, mister Gibbs, I have a bit of business I must attend to, please, enjoy the rum." He stated courteously, standing up for a moment before whirling about and pointing a shaking finger. "Don't touch mine, I'll know."

Elizabeth shuddered as she seemed to suddenly acquire dog-like hearing, every footstep matching her pulse. Hurriedly she tucked any strands of hair that could possibly give her away beneath the hat, attempting in several seconds to master masculine mannerisms. "Ahem, uh, yes, hmm, eh," Jack continued to ramble on, coughing for a few seconds as to get her attention. She resurfaced, a bottle of gin in hand.

"It seems I've anticipated your need." She stated gruffly, snatching a few shot glasses and pouring.

Jack seemed a bit flustered, something entirely out of character for him. "No, no, I'm a rum man meself, gent. Thank you for the concern." She stiffly leaned over, fearing that a single slip would betray herself to be a woman.

She nodded curtly and downed the unwanted gin, "yes, well, can't let it go to waste." She murmured, passing him the rum, surprised when he refused to take it.

Not one to purposefully beat around the bush, so to speak, unless he was attempting to state a quite specific story and get lost in his ramblings, Jack suddenly spoke as though he had been forced, "Excuse me, kind sir, I fear that you have a, uh, for lack of a better word...hmm, yes, item on your, er, person that perhaps does not _quite _belong to you, and, by order of elimination, it seems as though it is actually supposed to be in _my _possession for I, eh, happened to be the one to steal it first." Elizabeth kept a straight face and tried to keep from displaying the incredibly confused look on her face that she was dying to reveal.

"Hmm, amidst your ramblings I fear that you have forgotten a point." It was too delicious to deny herself the joy of irritating him. She was always one of the people who did it best, one of the few who managed to single-handedly best him with trickery, thus shackling him to the Black Pearl before it was ravaged by the Kraken.

"Well, yes, I'm sorry young boy, I am Captain Jack Sparrow, I wouldn't expect a prepubescent such as yourself to understand that _I _am quite legendary on the high seas...and you have one of my personal effects." His eyes went directly to her hat, or better explained, _his _hat as his rather shaky hand reached for it. She backed away, fearing exposure.

"I can assure you, Jack Robin or whatever it was, that this hat is my own, I have stolen it from nobody." She thanked herself for the little shelter the bar offered, along with her nearly mastered skill of feigning offhandedness. He was not yet convinced, though she doubted that he ever would be satisfied until he was wearing it upon his own skull, seeing as it was actually his at one point in time.

"It's _Captain _Jack Sparrow, you wallyscag," It took great self-control to not roll her eyes at this, "now it would be greatly appreciated if you were to first of all remember my name and secondly return that which is rightfully mine...unless a rather bonny lass quite some years your senior decided to give it to you..." He looked her up and down, seeing nothing more than a small and rather emasculate young boy. "But that is unlikely," At this he drew his sword, something that garnished a frustrated groan from his dear friend Gibbs and a cheer by some local drunk.

"This hat is my own, _Captain, _now if you would please, there are other alcoholics who wish to be served." This claim would have been greatly assisted if there was anyone in line at that particular moment, but the drunks seemed to be in a joined stupor which seemed to stop them from interrupting this wonderful reunion, even if only one of the party realized this. "I do not wish to fight."

Jack smiled crookedly at this. "Of course you don't, but I, however, am quite in the mood for a fight. I have not had a satisfactory one in weeks...well, days if you count that Monk who was just looking for trouble...and to battle for the honor of my...ahem, hat, seems to make the occasion all the more necessary." He informed her, directing his weapon toward the hat.

"If you seem to insist that this hat is your own, I would be happy to pay you to purchase a new one, if you deem this entirely necessary. I do not wish to engage in battle with you, for no other reason than that I do not believe in fighting over such trivial things as hats." She explained, unable to wipe the growing grimace off of her face.

Jack's eyes widened as his hand flew out in satisfaction. "Oh, yes, of course, why would an innocent man offer to pay for said hat if he did not acquire aforementioned hat by using dastardly deeds?" He questioned, as though he had figured it all out within a three minute conversation.

"Perhaps it is because the hat in question is not worth either of us losing our lives." She stated heatedly, habitually tilting the hat down, her features indistinguishable.

Jack revealed every last one of his silver and golden teeth in a smirk that could infuriate a nun. "Oh, I don't believe that someone as yourself could ever conceivably kill someone such as myself, and I wouldn't kill you. You'd get blood all over me hat." With that Elizabeth's hand flew to her scabbard, unsheathing her sword and biting down on her lip as metal clashed with metal.

Jack was unsurprised, wielding his weapon with expertise that would astonish anyone who had not seen him in action. She pounced, using a great deal of strength, flying into the air and landing squarely on the surface of her bar before leaping down and steadying her footing. She could not help but wonder how long it would take him to discover that it was Elizabeth Swann beneath this exterior, and by the look of rare perplexity she knew that he recognized the footwork. It was incredibly difficult to spar with her fiance when both of their techniques were so similar, though she learnt her own routine years before, she had long since adopted his.

"I find your technique dizzying, lad, let us test out your skills." As though he had not been trying before.

Panting, Elizabeth retained the banter. "Yes, well, I find your intellect equally as perplexing." She had modeled her faux-voice after Will's, though it was incredibly difficult to do. "What brings you to Tortuga, has the Pearl ceased to keep you occupied?" She instantly realized that she had said too much.

"And where is it that you happened to hear that I have anything to do with the Pearl? I believe you are referring to the Black Pearl with all of that 'black sails' and 'captain spat out from hell' and so forth, I can assure you that I am not superstitious." He stated candidly, out of all his blathering this making the most sense.

"I have heard rumors." She stated with ambiguity.

Jack smiled once more, attempting to prod her playfully as the crowd around them rooted for one or the other. "Oh, so you have heard of me." He did a tricky bit of footwork at that specific moment, catching Elizabeth off guard and snatching her wrist, forgetting the swords for a moment and pressing her into the wall rather roughly, though not to damage her. Several of the drunks groaned in disappointment and at least four booed, though Jack ignored this.

"Ouch," She muttered, mule-kicking and warding him away from her. "You cheated," she accused sourly, catching herself before pouting effeminately.

Jack shrugged, flipping his dreadlocks over his shoulder. "Who is there to draw the line between cheating and cleverness? And with you coming at me like...like some beautiful woman, as they always tend to do, I felt that I had proper incentive to stop you before you got your heart broken." He muttered, his eyes still fixed on the hat as though it was pivotal to his survival. "Now, seeing as I have one this little duel I find it necessary that you, er, pay up, so to speak, also meaning that you give me back my bloody effects!" He demanded, hand extended expectantly.

"It's _effect, _singular, or do you believe that I have any more of your pilfered items in my possession?" She questioned coldly, glancing at Gibbs out of the corner of her eye with something that mirrored embarrassment.

"What is your name?" He questioned, his facial features not betraying anything more than a common interest.

"Will..." She sputtered, wincing as soon as she realized the error in revealing her pseudonym to Jack who, though oftentimes daft, would not let a major detail such as this escape him, no matter how inebriated. His eyes lit up as he lifted an accusatory finger.

"Ah ha! Egad! You are using your master's name instead of your own, I recognize the technique, I once cheated with Will Turner, as well!" The following silence brought a frown to his face as he attempted to rectify the incriminating sentence. "Well, no, I fought him and then, uh, I...there was sawdust and a drunken moron, who was not me, and a bottle...I still have the scar, I believe." And Jack did what he was best at, caught her off guard before snatching the very hat from atop her head and placing it on his own.

She opened her mouth in protest but nothing would do as her hair, suddenly without support, seemed to collapse upon her head, and despite its shortened length there was no mistaking that she was, indeed, Elizabeth Turner. He gaped and she stared as Gibbs' attention finally seemed to be steady and he joined in.

"Oh, my."

**This is actually a pretty long chapter, so I hope you appreciate it!**


	3. Chapter the Third

**family reunion was good, and i was shocked by the amount of reviews I received! i hope to match that this time so please, tell me what you think!**

Despite Jack Sparrow's look of constant confusion, his newest expression seemed to take the figurative cake. "Don't mind me saying so, lad, but you bear an uncanny resemblance to...a woman." He deadpanned, his arm extended, the hat briefly forgotten. Elizabeth froze, her eyes scanning the crowd. It seemed as though they were fortunate as to escape many eyes, though nearly a dozen were fixed on the two, and she was too shocked to fight as both Gibbs and Sparrow seized her by the collar and tore her from the vicinity.

Her blond hair was cropped past her neck, seeing as she was unwilling to shed all of her femininity in one shot. Her shoulder blade roughly collided against a pillar, though Gibbs had the dignity to look slightly remorseful as Elizabeth winced in pain. Sparrow flailed his arms, taking several deep breaths before he was able to regain his countenance, "I...well, ahem, you...happen to be _not dead,_" He sputtered, flabbergasted.

Elizabeth glared at him scathingly, though he was unaffected, "Oh, thank you for pointing that out." He stared at her with blatant annoyance, his hands reaching out and touching her hair briefly.

"May I ask what a place like you happens to be doing in a girl like this?" he questioned with the utmost seriousness, something that merited an amused snort from the woman in question, though both Gibbs and the captain seemed to miss out on this bit of humor.

"We've seen yer grave, Miss Swann, a shared one with Turner." Gibbs explained quickly, only to be slightly interrupted by Jack.

"I am starting to think that we should have excavated it, don't you?" He questioned pointedly, his tone inquisitive. Gibbs nodded fiercely, taking a swig from his glass.

"Aye, I believe that that would have been wise."

Jack turned his attention to Elizabeth, mouth gaping and eyes somewhat unfocused. "And you, is um, snip-snip, still walking around, perhaps in a bonnet?" He questioned, and a more perceptive being would have happened to observe the devastating change of expression on her face.

She wiped her nose hurriedly, something that she had been raised to _never _do in the presence of a gentleman, but Jack hardly qualified. "No, he's dead, about as dead as one can get." She replied shakily.

Jack's eyebrows disappeared into his dreadlocks as his lips formed an _o _of recognition. "And, if I may ask, how is it that the great Turner was finally done away?" Not exactly the kindest way to show his concern.

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she knew _Captain _Jack Sparrow all too well to doubt that he would not care if she were to display her insult. "In battle, as he would have wished, I suppose." It was not what she had wished, she wanted one of them to die at the ripe age of one-hundred and three in each other's arms as they slept. A silly girls' dream, but something she still thought of.

Jack began pacing, opening his mouth every so often as though to speak before his hands flew to his mouth as he thought otherwise. "Miss Elizabeth, who be it that did Mr. Turner in?" Gibbs asked, receiving a withering glance from Jack in exchange.

She took a deep breath, fingers running through her hair nervously. "We were ambushed by several allies of the East India Trading Company, all of whom were under orders to do away with Will and take me back to Port Royal. Five of them succeeded in fulfilling the first part of their agreement, but it took a few days for him to..." She trailed off, knowing that it was unnecessary to delve into details.

The Captain continued to walk quickly, biting his lip in thought as he considered all that he could say. "I am quite sorry for your loss," was all that he could come up with. She nodded shakily, her lip quivering as she was forced to support herself.

"We've been shaking those scurvy dogs for the past fortnight, near a quarter of our crew has jumped ship at this here port, the only remaining pirate-friendly one in the seven seas." Gibbs muttered, ignoring Jack effectively.

"Mrs. Turner," perhaps the most painful thing he could possibly say, "it brings me great displeasure to be the one...one_s _if you count dear old Mister Gibbs here, to tell you that the newly reinstated Commodore is manning the search for you and Mr. Turner...junior, of course." Jack mumbled, one finger at a time clasping onto her shoulder. She shrugged him off and he could not so much as feign surprise. "The good gov'ner is also waving a full pardon for you, and you alone, if you are to return to the confines of Port Royal for the duration of your life. Something I doubt you will take into account." His eyes met hers and the shimmering reminiscent glint in his did not escape her notice. He was perhaps the only person left on earth who knew her true colors...none, just like a pirate's ship.

Gibbs dared to specify, something most would not consider doing. "It is merely luck and the direction of the wind that be with us, Miss Elizabeth. With Davey Jones's crew on our tails, along with those floundering rats from the same company that branded Jack, it is becoming more and more evident that our time as the last remaining true pirate threat is running out." Jack nodded, a hand in the air to show both his agreement and his urge to add something.

"We might be forced to..." He shuddered at the mere thought before fully processing it, "make and _honest living, _put up with the moral standards and the sheer stupidity of others who believe that we are the beginning of the end, when we are just ending the beginning of their end." He explained with ease.

Joshamee Gibbs tried, as usual, to somehow make sense of this babble. "You mean that those honest folk-" Captain Jack cringed at the mere mention. "think us to be the start of something that bodes ill, when we are just starting something that will...begin something better?" He questioned.

Jack snorted, "Sometimes I wonder where that logic of yours originates from, Mr. Gibbs." The object of his scorn, used to this, turned to Elizabeth instead.

"Perhaps our luck would increase if we were to take you, Miss Elizabeth, aboard..." Before he could even finish he felt a hand reach for his shoulder, whirling him around.

"I'm quite apologetic, my dear," he smiled forcedly at Elizabeth, "but the grownups must talk amongst themselves, hmm? Savvy?" She rolled her eyes at this evident condescension but dismissed them nonetheless. He only bothered taking two steps to the left before speaking. "Do you find this to be completely wise, mate? With all of those...superstitions of yours, including the one about lasses bringing a bad bout of luck, you decide to invite old what's her face aboard the Black Pearl?" Elizabeth tapped her foot in the background, wondering if he knew that she could hear every single word.

"It's reverse, Jack. We are short several crew mates, and why not her? She and Turner have saved us from many-a peril." Jack smiled darkly.

"Ahem, yes, I suppose, though both of them have at one point in time _left me for dead_." He stated through gritted teeth.

"She's a pirate, through and through, this you cannot deny." Gibbs informed him stubbornly, aware that Jack was in full agreement, and only needed a bit of persuasion. He made no attempt to refute this accusation, one which was the highest of compliments from a scallywag such as himself.

"Fine, but if the girl so much as _touches _me rum, we'll have a man..._woman _overboard, savvy?" Gibbs fought the smile spreading across his lips, one that Captain Sparrow was defeated enough to ignore, for his own pride was bruised enough and did not deserve an extra blow. He took the necessary two steps backward before sighing and facing the bane of his existence once again.

"Hmm, well, while Mister Gibbs was dead set against you becoming an addition to our crew, I yammered some sense to him and the like and he has finally consented to allow you to...be of some service on the Pearl." He muttered slowly, as though hoping at any moment that she would refuse.

Elizabeth gaped at the men in surprise, now certain that _her _Captain believed that she was hearing-impaired enough to miss what he had just argued moments before. She opened her mouth, not quite sure what to say as she looked down at her own decor, breathing in the scent of booze and sweat that stained Will's old garments. She wanted to be in the sea again, to do what she knew Will would do, given the right opportunity.

She was not certain whether or not it was the memory of her beloved, or her own love of the changing, tempestuous ocean that influenced her decision, but before she could put her basic reasoning skills to good use she had spoken, "Well then, alright." She was positive that this reply would cause an indefinite amount of damage to her lifestyle, but pirates were a dying breed and she would give anything to go down with that ship...just as Will had done before her.

**please, tell me what you think, i struggled at some parts but i felt guilty not updating so please, comment on anything!**


	4. Chapter the Fourth

**I hope that you like it! I have a new beta, Avelera, who gave me helpful hints. Please, tell me what you think about the chapter! this is edited, just up, so please tell me what you think!**

The sea was just as she remembered it, salty spray dancing in the air and clinging to her skin, the dour scent of many, many men who had not bathed in ages. She could feel the ghost of Will's hand resting on her own, massaging her knuckles gently. She did not dare to look down; knowing that logic would win out and that warm feeling would disappear into the vast emptiness. She stared straight ahead, allowing herself to play the thought as long as she was able. Naturally, only one person could interrupt her reverie with such abruptness that the gentle moment was all but forgotten.

"What're you doing?" Captain Jack Sparrow sputtered, poking his head in directly next to hers and smiling as she jumped in surprise. "Boo."

She clutched her chest in a distinctly feminine way, glaring at him and sighing deeply. "What are you doing?" She questioned in return, glancing down at the half empty rum bottle clutched in his hand with evident disgust.

Hastily he pushed it behind his back, thinking that he had cleverly stashed the substance. "Nothing of importance, what a Captain does is not up to...or for? scrutiny of his crew members. Hop to, you're not a part of me crew if all you do is standing around looking pretty...by the by, you are doing a quite amateur job at that, indeed. I have said it before, these clothes hardly flatter." She sighed and whirled around, eyeing the equally inactive crew mates with a scrutinizing eye.

"Oh, yes, I can clearly see that I am the only one standing about." She near shouted over the sound of Ragetti's snores. Jack narrowed his eyes to the point of beady, his mouth open and ready to retort when she interrupted his train of thought. "You would think that with the East India Trading Company on our tails you would be more...worried." She sneered as he pressed the mouth of the bottle to his lips, swigging down three gulps before belching quite loudly.

"Ah, well worrying is for worriers, Elizabeth. I am on constant alert, my attention never..." He took a brief interlude, downing some more rum and leaning up against Elizabeth as some sort of support rail. She shrugged him off, watching in amusement as he floundered to the ground, frowning.

"You do understand that if you are found, it is straight to the gallows for you and the rest of your crew apart from-" He decided to cut in, as though whatever he had to say was of the utmost importance.

"Me...well, you would've said 'me', and by meself saying 'me' I mean you, you, governor's ickle daughter, are to receive full pardon...in exchange for a sort of agreement betwixt you and the Commodore, along with that Beckett." She froze, not visible to the naked eye, but she felt her blood go cold.

"What sort of agreement?" She asked, her eyes wide as saucers. He grinned, self-satisfied that he was able to bait her into a question.

"The sort of agreement that you won't like much, Lizzie." She hated the nickname, but decided to let it go just that once, biting her tongue and controlling her facial expressions tensely. "You, being prac-tic-ally royalty in these parts, are valued above us, how'd you put it, 'rum-soaked pirates'? I have heard that, upon capture, you will be forced to remain in Port Royal for the duration of your life, which you, in your state of being, most likely was already aware of, aye?"

She nodded numbly, certain that there was worse to come. "But you, you are a pirate, a scalawag and the rest of those rather derogatory terms that you yerself used before, and I doubt that you will see domestication as freedom. A pirate is a dangerous thing to be, which is why I think you love it." He slurred, dropping the now empty bottle with disappointment.

Her shoulders tensed, Elizabeth's eyebrows knit together. "I don't want to go back, not anymore. What's there for me, apart from my father and an eternity of meaningless soirees? I so wanted to be married, but not to whoever my father definitely has in mind." She stated and Jack twiddled his fingers, not quite enraptured in her tale.

"Oh, yes, yes, definitely. Mmm hmm, no doubt." He muttered to himself, flipping the compass open lazily and glancing down at it before closing it once again. "Sad, sad, sad." She turned to him, lips drawn in a grimace. He glanced up, evidently surprised to see that she was still standing there. "What, er, I mean is...you are as doomed as we all are if Beckett were to find the Pearl. I'll be taking a short drop and a sudden stop, but you...you will be forced into some more of those accident-inducing corsets and such," she bit her lip and he hastily revised that, "Yay for me, nay for you, I get it. And it seems as though you have acquired a taste for gent's clothing, especially that of the late Mr. Turner." He stated, frowning deeply as he poked at her sleeve.

Tired of listening to his drunken rambling, she snapped, "Is there a point to all of this raucous babbling or do you just enjoy the sound of your own talking?"

He puckered his lips in distaste, "I resent that, lassie, everything I have ever said in the history of...ever, has been of significant importance, no matter how indifferent you may seem to my roaring wit." He argued petulantly.

"You can be such a child, Jack." She stated, exasperatedly. He seemed to not take this innocent little critique well, though he shrugged it off as he did all attempts at criticism.

"Yes, well, and you don't smell half as well as you used to. Like man and...salt, hmm." He informed her, crossing his arms calmly as though he had just done her a great service in insulting her personal hygiene.

She leaned into him and took a whiff before wincing. "Ha, you are certainly none to talk, captain." Even he could identify the sarcasm that resonated in her tone, the bitterness that he had never heard before.

"Old Bootstrap junior's death got you screwy, didn't it?" She didn't bother feigning confusion or denying the truth.

"Yes," she said simply, closing her eyes and allowing the ocean spray to fly to her face, clutching the railing with a death-grip. His hand lay near hers, and they met briefly, whether by accident or not certain to either of them.

"If I'm to have my way the Caribbean will be free again to pillage and such, blah blah, la-dee-da and all that. It's not exactly a vision, love, it's more of an...aspiration. Savvy?" Her eyes remained closed, nearly squeezed shut.

A smile came across her face, an expression she had not experienced in an incredibly long while. She wanted the same thing, to be able to do what she wanted, she was no longer a little delicate lady who feigned fainting spells in a hope of distracting. If she wanted something, she used the tip of her sword to get it, and did not employ her womanly wiles. She was a different woman than the first time she was captured by Barbossa and his crew, a different person since she chained Jack to his doom, sentencing him to death. And even an entirely separate entity since Will's death. She hated that Jack Sparrow was right, that they were undeniably similar.

"Savvy," She agreed with a Jack-esque grin, knowing that he was smiling in return.

**Any and all comments are accepted, as long as they are constructive. I hope that everyone's having a good summer, and once again a big thank you to Avelera!**


	5. Chapter the Fifth

**I apologize for the long wait, with summer vacationing and school just restarting it has been difficult to find time to write but, nonetheless, I have found it!**

They all trekked in silence, one by one slouching across the seemingly eternal stretch of beach, all with tools in hand apart from Captain Jack Sparrow who had escaped the responsibility by feigning a foot cramp before skipping onto the sandy shores with something the Elizabeth easily identified as glee. He walked with a cane, an eccentricity that he had picked up after the Pearl pillaged a supply ship and he had stubbed his toe or something of the sort.

Gibbs and Elizabeth shared the responsibility of toting along the monstrosity of a case, one of which not a one person in the crew truly knew the contents of. There had been speculation, of course, followed by a few lame attempts to break into said vessel, but the captain, while a bit silly in the head, was nonetheless competent.

"Lift with your legs! Enough puddy-footing about, all, keep the spring in your step! Ms. Swann, you are of an able body! Quit slouching about and...hmm, I don't like that hand gesture you are giving me. Quite rude," He rambled about, prancing forward with his cane in hand, meriting quite dirty looks from every crew member forced to strain themselves in the name of one of Captain Jack's frivolous whims.

"If you find it so easy to do, why not partake in your own demands?" Elizabeth coughed out as she stumbled forward, terrified eyes falling upon her the instant she communicated her thoughts. Gibbs dropped his end of the case, staring at her with something that resembled awe.

Jack whirled about, one hand at the ready as the other dramatically leaned upon his cane for unnecessary support. "Have you recently salvaged your ship from the perilous depths of world's end and conquered the Krakken singlehandedly and rescued your crew from a fate most foul?" A puzzled frown sat upon her lips as she emphatically shook her head. He nodded stiffly and turned back. "I thought not, now keep up!" He commanded, cane now acting as a compass instead of support. "We must move onward."

The all reluctantly followed, Elizabeth feeling as though her wrists would snap at any given moment. "I believe that he has grown continually batty!" She hissed out her mouth, back buckling before she reluctantly followed his sound _advice, _if it could even be referred as such.

Gibbs guffawed gruffly, stepping forward and collapsing into the soft sand. "Perhaps, Miss Elizabeth." He straightened his back and attempted to come to his feet before stumbling once more, cheek pressed firmly into the sand. He choked out a sound neither sob nor scream, nothing in it seemed to display pain but knowing him made her instantly realize the trouble. She eased the chest into the sparkling blanket of glistening diamonds, tearing her jacket off in vexation before kneeling before him.

"Gibbs, l'right?" She mumbled due to the beating sun, reaching for his elbows and propping him up against the precious cargo. He smiled grimly, a smile that displayed no amusement whatsoever.

"Just...give me a moment." She silently agreed, reaching for the flask attached to her hip and passing it to him. He popped the cap open and drank greedily, eyes displaying surprise as the liquor caressed his tongue. "Ah, who'd ah thought, eh?" He murmured, cracking his neck and biting his bottom lip.

"Captain Sparrow!" She crowed, coming to her feet and staring after the disappearing crew though he s ignored her cries and continued to traipse onward. "Captain...Jack?" He turned at this, a smile at the ready.

"Yes, Elizabeth?" He asked pleasantly, though it was most evident that he could see the problem at hand. "Don't fall behind, we must still to the code...or guidelines, as you so colorfully illustrated." He revised with a slight frown, though the rest of the crew halted.

"Gibbs is hurt, could someone check him?" She asked, looking imploringly from one alleged friend to the next. Every one of them glanced back to their captain for permission which he was reluctant to give.

"Mister Gibbs understands our methods, Elizabeth, as do you. Our entire...expedition cannot depend on one man's health, savvy? Leave 'him lie." His tone was meant to be disarming and allegedly friendly, but it was all too easy to read in between the lines. This had nothing to do with mister Gibbs health or anything of the caliber, it had to do with the two of them, Jack feeling the need to prove himself unchallenged leader.

"Really?" She drawled, eyes running up and down his body and posture. Arms planted on hips, legs planted in the sand, back as straight as possible. If it were possible she would believe that he had become even cockier than ever before. There was only one language he spoke, apart from the native tongue of a certain island when he was seen as a god. She unsheathed her, more properly defined as William Turner's former, sword, taking several steps forward before striking Jack's cane with the blunt side of the blade.

The crew provided the necessary sound effects, even Gibbs expressed his own disagreement with her actions. "Arm yourself," she demanded, taking a sick amount of pleasure in observing his resounding shock.

"Bravo, Miss Swann, you and snip-snip were two of a kind." He stated, readying his own weapon. "However, was it truly necessary that you lambast me cane?" He staggered forward, metal clashing with metal as Elizabeth met that action.

"What are the stakes, _captain_?" She questioned mockingly, straightening her hat before making a slight attempt to score a point.

"Apart from the obvious?" He replied, gesturing oh-so-slightly toward the invalid. "First to the ground gets their will, yours seemingly being an unwarranted break, savvy?" She agreed, patiently awaiting the end of his ramble.

"If you are to win, an unlikely supposition as it is, I want what it is that I have wanted all of these _long _years, what you have long since denied me..." He leaned as close to her as she and her sword would allow. Her eyes glistened with an expression indiscernible emotion, whether it be anger or shock or anything else was uncertain. "_My hat,"_ A grin danced on his lips as his surrounding men roared with laughter. She prickled, rage and embarrassment rippling through every fiber of her being.

She thrashed her sword about, nearly knocking him off of his feet with her sudden burst of energy. He held is own, challenging her and pushing her backward only to be pressed forward by her unstinting perseverance. Gibbs dithered forward, dragging the chest across the soft sand and temporarily planting it down.

"Jack, Miss Elizabeth, 's alright, let's carry on. We're burning daylight, mates!" But it was to no avail, neither the opposing pirates paid him any mind.

She went for his legs, a move he detected and avoided with ease before he attempted to jab her shoulder and was in turn kicked in the knees. She dropped her weapon and shoved him square on the chest, taking his hand in hers and prying his fingers open, forcing him to follow suit. While preoccupying him with curiosity, she swept her ankles beneath his calves and forced him to the ground.

"Alright, maties, drink up your hearties!" She cried in victory, scooping up her weapon and waving it about.

"Yo ho," Gibbs agreed, returning her flask and dropping to the ground.

"And my will be that our captain assists in toting this cargo, _savvy, _Jack." He frowned slightly, coming to his feet purposefully.

"Find your own phrase of common use, Lizzy, I fear that that one is my own." He assented, the grin still remaining rooted on his face.

**Sorry if it was not up to standard, please, just tell me what you think!**


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